


The Right Way

by GuardianMira



Category: Marvel
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 10:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianMira/pseuds/GuardianMira
Summary: Steve wants to eat Tony out. Tony is very much on board.





	The Right Way

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. No content warnings except for, like, unrealistic sex. I tend to default to 616 stevetony but did not have any particular universe in mind when I wrote this. 
> 
> Note: at some point in the next couple of months I might be looking for beta readers for a longer, plottier fic (25-30k?) so if you're up for that pls let me know in a comment or message.

Steve has never been difficult to please in bed.

In the army, his encounters were rushed and furtive, not exactly a time for being picky or bringing kink and experimentation into the mix. He knew how to make his partner feel good, and sure, if they asked for something special he was usually up for it. But for him? As long as he got off and his partner did, too, he didn’t care much how they both got there.

It’s the same with Tony. If someone’s dick is going into someone’s ass or mouth, he’s happy. If he gets to touch Tony, if he gets Tony’s hands on him, he’s perfectly content. If he gets to kiss Tony and hold him, he has everything he needs.

Tony likes to play, though.

“If you want to try something new in bed,” Tony tells him, early on in their relationship, “we can talk about it. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me what you want, okay?”

“Sure, Tony,” says Steve, and pulls him in for another kiss.

Tony’s mostly the one who introduces Steve to new things in bed. They’ve tried restraints and blindfolds, and explored different positions. Steve likes having Tony ride him – or getting to be the one doing the riding, he’s not picky – and he likes to draw things out with Tony, pushing him to the brink and keeping him there as long as he can before he lets Tony come. He’s fucked Tony while dressed in his Captain America uniform – Tony _really_ liked that – and they’ve tried a bit of role playing. There’s nothing, though, that he really feels the need to propose to Tony.

Well. There might be one thing.

It’s the way Steve’s eyes are drawn magnetically to Tony’s rear if Tony walks, stands, bends over, or exists in front of Steve. It’s the way he can’t resist giving Tony’s tight butt a smack if he passes Tony in the kitchen or the hall. It’s the way he revels in fingering Tony, opening him up nice and slow for Steve’s dick, and the way all Steve’s favorite positions seem to involve taking Tony from behind so he can watch his dick slide into Tony’s ass. He might have a bit of a… fixation.

But what he really wants – and even admitting this to himself makes him feel flushed – is to get his mouth on Tony’s hole.

It’s not so different from the kind of oral he’s used to. He’s gone down on both men and women before. Just never… there. He doesn’t even know if that’s a thing people do; it never came up with his other partners.

His attempt to conduct research is only moderately successful.

Tony’s encouraged Steve to explore pornography, to help him get a sense of things he might like. Steve mostly doesn’t care about watching other people have sex. Sometimes they’re attractive people, and sometimes he gets off, jerking himself lazily to some pretty woman’s breasts bouncing or a fat dick getting sucked. But watching strangers fumble around is flat and dull compared to being with Tony.

He turns to porn to figure out if this thing he wants is… normal. Or how far into “kink” territory it might be. But porn is useless for gauging what’s normal and what’s not. Things that are completely repulsive and bizarre to him are widespread, and seem to be accepted as the norm, on most porn sites.

He figures out what he wants to do is called rimming, and he’s not the only one who likes it. It features frequently, if briefly, in many of the videos he finds.

He watches a lot of porn that week. It leaves him in a state of frustrated, dissatisfied arousal most of the time, leaves him wanting Tony badly. If Tony’s not there, he either gets a dildo up his ass and takes care of himself, head full of visions of all the things he wants to do to Tony, or he works it off in the gym.

If Tony’s there? He goes and gets him. Consequently, he has a lot of sex with Tony that week. Even more than usual, which is really something.

“Is, uh—” Tony gasps. “Is everything okay, babe? Not that I’m complaining, at—” he groans, “at all, but you’ve been….”

“Needy?” Steve mumbles against Tony’s throat. He feels him swallow, muscles rippling under his lips.

“Amorous,” says Tony.

“It’s nothing,” Steve says, and then pauses. “Well. Okay. It’s something, kind of, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

Tony pulls away. “Something bad? Are— are we okay?”

“Yes! Of course we are, Tony. I love you,” Steve says, fiercely, just in case any ridiculous ideas have gotten into that brilliant head of his. “It’s just something I’m trying to figure out. And I _will_ talk to you about it, soon. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” says Tony, and Steve kisses his sweet mouth like he could swallow the sound of his voice, kisses him until Tony’s warm and relaxed in his arms again and feels, Steve can only hopes, something like the waves of love and pleasure crashing within Steve himself. 

And if Steve’s hands find their way down the back of Tony’s pants a little too quickly – before he’s got the rest of Tony’s clothes even halfway off – Tony doesn’t seem to find it any stranger than any of his other behavior.

He knows this can’t last. Tony’s noticed enough to ask, and there’s nothing more that porn can do for him in terms of research. He has to talk to Tony or put this whole thing out of his mind, and the second option is definitely not going to happen.

He brings it up, perhaps unwisely, in the common kitchen as he and Tony are washing up after dinner. There’s a dishwasher, but he still likes to do the dishes by hand, and Tony helps mostly so he can get in Steve’s space and bump their arms together and flick water at Steve when he feels like being a nuisance, which is all the time, Steve thinks with an unaccountable level of fondness. Tony is his favorite, most delightful nuisance. He leans over and kisses the top of his shoulder as he passes over the last dish for Tony to dry.

“Do you remember,” Steve says, turning off the faucet, “last week when I said there was something I didn’t want to talk about yet?”

“Yes, vividly,” Tony says. “Hard not to, since you bent me over my own work table about five minutes later.”

Steve grins, unabashed. He dries off his hands on a dishrag and then leans against the counter.

“I think I’m ready to talk about it. It’s, well. Back when we started dating, you told me I should let you know if there was something I wanted to do in bed,” says Steve. Tony’s face changes from one of poorly hidden nerves to barely concealed delight.

“Absolutely, yes. Anything at all,” says Tony.

“But you can still say no, okay? I won’t be upset. I don’t want you to feel like you have to try just because I’m asking for it,” Steve says. He wants to make this perfectly clear. He knows damn well Tony will endure things he finds unpleasant if he thinks it’ll make Steve happy— he’s been doing that since before they started dating. He won’t allow it in their bedroom. “No matter how much I want it, I won’t enjoy anything that doesn’t make you happy, too.”

Tony is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I promise, darling, if you hit upon one of the very few things I’m not willing to at least attempt in bed, I’ll let you know. I have some limits. I have a list in my head and if you name something on that list I swear I’ll tell you. But. It’s not a long list.”

“I know, but—”

“God, Steve, enough suspense. What is it? Tell me what you want.” He leans in close, drops his voice so it’s as low and rumbling as if they’re alone in their room and not in the middle of the damn kitchen. Steve really hadn’t thought this through.

“I want,” Steve says, and clears his throat. “I want to eat you out.”

Tony’s eyes go wide.

“Wait, you mean… my ass?”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yes. I want to eat _your ass_.”

He’s defensive, so this comes out in what Tony calls his Captain voice, as if he’s on the battlefield barking an order and not discussing his love life with his partner. Tony looks about ready to faint.

“Oh god,” Tony breathes.

Steve sighs. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I knew it.”

“No!” Tony gasps. “It’s not weird. It’s good. It’s the _best_. I might actually be hallucinating right now, it’s almost too good to be true, I have no idea what I did to deserve this—”

Steve frowns. He doesn’t like when Tony starts to sound like that, like he’s surprised he gets to have good things.

“Too good to be true?” Steve objects. “How? Your ass is fantastic.”

“That’s true, but—”

“And I,” says Steve, very clearly, “have been fantasizing about sticking my tongue up your hole since our first date.”

Tony visibly shudders. Steve is starting to think this was a better idea than he’d given himself credit for.

“You have?” Tony whimpers.

“That, and a lot of other things. Bending you over in the workshop with your pants around your ankles and getting on my knees for you. Lying back and having you sit on my face. Eating my come out of you—"

“I— I am going to go take a shower _right now_ ,” Tony says, eyes very dark, “and then you can meet me in the bedroom.”

Curious, Steve steps forward and grips him lightly between the legs, massaging at his groin. Tony’s already half-hard. He grabs the counter behind him with both hands and tips his head back and closes his eyes and moans softly at Steve’s firm touch.

Steve grins, lets him go. “Sounds like a plan, Shellhead,” he says, and kisses him innocently on the cheek.

Tony hobbles away.

#

Steve undresses while he waits for Tony to finish showering. Then Tony’s shower runs longer than he expected, so he feels a little silly sitting there in the nude by himself; he ends up lying back with the book he’d been reading and keeps on his night stand, propped up against the pillows with his ankles crossed.

When Tony opens the bathroom door – mostly dried off, though his hair is still damp, and he hasn’t bothered to get dressed again, thank god – he grins widely, eyes crinkling at the corner.

“What?” Steve says, replacing his bookmark and dropping the novel back on the nightstand.

“Nothing,” says Tony. “You just. You look comfortable there. I’m glad you moved in.”

“Me too,” says Steve, and he swings his legs over the side of the bed and opens up his arms. Tony climbs into his lap without hesitation – straddling Steve’s hips, pressing their chests together, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

Steve lets out a contented sigh. This is perfect. He gets an armful of happy, cuddly, lovely smelling boyfriend who pets his hair and places lazy kisses on Steve’s skin, and now he gets to do exactly what he wants to do with this beautiful man of his.

He runs his hands up Tony’s back, his palms flat against his body. Tony arches into him with a pleased hum. His erection is back, poking into Steve’s belly. Steve looks between their bodies so he can watch the flushed, leaking head bump into his skin.

“Like what you see?” Tony asks slyly. Steve takes his mouth in a rough kiss, opening Tony’s mouth with his tongue. His stubble scratches at Steve’s lips but inside he’s soft and wet, returning each of Steve’s kisses fervently and tugging Steve’s hair to demand more.

Steve pulls away to lick a stripe along Tony’s jaw, and then he turns them so that Tony’s on his back on the mattress with Steve on top of him. He travels down, down the graceful line of his throat that he peppers with kisses and bite marks, down even further to his nipples. They’re the light brown color of a creamy coffee, and Steve delights in sucking on them, first one and then the other. He rubs the flat of his tongue over and over against the stiff button, savoring the texture and Tony’s helpless gasps.

A trail of soft hair leads Steve down Tony’s belly and between his legs. He presses his nose into the thatch of hair at the base of his erection, rubs his cheek against his red, leaking dick. Tony’s not as big as Steve, but he’s big by most standards. The first time he managed to swallow Tony all the way to the root, Steve counted it as a bit of an accomplishment.

He has other plans today, though. He gives the slit a teasing lick, because he can’t quite resist, and then laps again at the head until all the liquid that’s collected there is gone.

He looks up at Tony’s face, at his open mouth and his slack expression of pleasure. Tony likes to watch him but he does so hazily, through eyes that keep trying to fall shut. Steve sits up, splaying a hand on Tony’s thigh.

“Can you turn over, Tony?” he asks. He rubs his thumb in soothing circles over his skin. “On your belly. Legs spread as wide as you can. Do that for me, Shellhead?”

Tony moans and obeys.

Steve groans aloud at the view. Tony’s head is pillowed on his arms, his hair a tousled mass of wet, messy curls. The lean muscles of his shoulders and back are stretched out like the most perfect canvas in the world. His spine is a smooth line Steve’s eyes and fingers follow down to Tony’s ass, which is tan and round and tight. He’s spread open his legs, drawing his knees up a little, and his crack is slightly parted. Steve takes a firm grip on both his cheeks and spreads him open all the way, so the soft black hair along his furrow and the tight pink furl of his hole are exposed to Steve’s eyes.

“God damn, Tony,” Steve mumbles.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Tony reminds Steve, with a breathless laugh.

“Yeah, but now I get to do this,” says Steve, and he wastes no more time in leaning down and burying his face in Tony’s crack, tongue-first. He licks a long, wet stripe from the back of Tony’s balls almost to the base of his spine, and then does it again and a third time, salivating all over him like a starving animal. Tony’s hips jerk against him, and Steve lets out an honest-to-god growl as he attaches his lips to Tony’s asshole. It tastes like skin and a bit like soap, but it’s the texture that really gets to him. He tongues carefully and thoroughly over the tight opening, learning every wrinkle, and when he’s got Tony’s hole soaking wet he soothes it with his lips, kissing and sucking it like he would his mouth.

Beneath him, Tony is whimpering and moving his hips – what little he can against Steve’s iron grip – against the mattress, trying to get some friction on his dick.

He pulls himself away long enough to say, “Good?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Tony moans, tipping his ass up; it’s like his body is begging for Steve’s mouth. Steve obliges. His own dick is throbbing between his legs. He gets a hand around it long enough to squeeze, hard, and then returns both his hands to Tony’s ass. He rubs his thumb in firm, demanding circles on Tony’s hole before he puts his mouth to work again. He’s already addicted to this, he knew he would be. He licks that perfect opening again and again, and as it loosens, he wiggles the tip of his tongue inside and feels how Tony’s body grips it. Suddenly that’s not enough, so he grabs the lube. He gets two fingers inside Tony, spreads them apart as best he can – which is not much, Tony’s still so tight – and stretches Tony’s hole open so he can lick inside of it.

Tony is gasping and moaning nonstop now. His hole twitches prettily with every shift of his body, tightening and fluttering around Steve’s fingers. Steve kisses it, kisses the place where his fingers enter Tony’s body, as if in reward, and then he pulls his fingers out and leaves his tongue inside Tony’s hole, buried almost to the root. He closes his lips on Tony’s hole and just laps at him as much as he can before his tongue slips out again. He breathes hard, licks greedily at Tony’s hole for a minute like a dog lapping water off the ground. Then he gets his fingers back in and stretches his hole open again and delves inside once more.

“God, Steve—” Tony says, or tries to say, but the syllables are slurred and broken. Tony has practically melted into the mattress. He’s a shivery, squirming puddle of want under Steve.

Steve decides to check on him. He crawls up Tony’s body and leans his chest against Tony’s back, still rubbing Tony’s soft, open hole with one of his hands, keeping him spread. He kisses his cheek, his hairline, the side of his mouth he can reach while the other half of Tony’s face is buried in his pillow.

“More?” Steve asks, kissing Tony’s gasping lips over and over. Tony kisses back, weakly, mostly just rubbing his lips against Steve and letting Steve take the lead.

“Mm,” Tony manages. “Yes. You. You can do whatever you want. I want it, I want anything. Please, Steve, please—”

“Shh,” he says gently, kissing the corner of Tony’s eye, his forehead, his chin, his mouth again. “You don’t have to beg. I’ll give it to you.”

“ _Steve_ ,” he moans, “you’re going to fuck me, too, right?”

Steve had fully intended to make Tony come with his mouth alone, but now— 

His hand slides from Tony’s furrow and down, deeper between his legs, to grip his balls and the base of his dick. His balls are drawn up tight, his dick hot and wet with precum. Steve works his palm over Tony’s swollen, doubtless aching erection.

“You want me to fuck you?” he checks, chewing delicately at Tony’s ear.

“Yes _please_ ,” says Tony, humping into Steve’s grip until Steve lets go to massage Tony’s hole again.

He sinks back down between Tony’s legs. He draws Tony’s dick back so he can give the head a few soothing, affectionate sucks. On his way back up, his tongue laves over each of Tony’s balls, and then he licks his way back into Tony’s crack, already feeling like he’s done this a million times. His hole is still nice and relaxed for Steve, like it’s been waiting for him to come back and give it more attention. He’d overestimated his own restraint, Steve realizes it now. Of course he’s going to fuck Tony— at this moment he sort of feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck that hole open as wide as it’ll go, doesn’t fill it all the way up with his dick and then with his come. Tony’s hole needs it too, he thinks, it’s so yielding and soft for him. It would be neglectful of Steve _not_ to fuck it, really.

He spreads Tony’s cheeks as wide as he can and gives his crack a few wide, parting sweeps with the flat of his tongue. He hasn’t really had his fill – he could probably spend hours doing this – but he sits up anyway. The noises Tony are making have reached a desperate pitch that tells Steve he won’t last much longer. Besides, Steve’s dick is bright red and practically sore with the need for attention by now. Steve fits it into Tony’s soaking wet furrow and thrusts, self-indulgently, between his thick cheeks. He plants one hand between Tony’s shoulders, pinning him down – as if Tony’s planning on going anywhere – and with his other hand snatches up the bottle of lube. He stills his hips long enough to pour out far too much lube, all over his dick and Tony’s ass, until they’re both sloppy with it.

“Yes, Steve, yes,” Tony babbles. “Get it in me, I’m loose enough, you stretched me so good, baby, just fill me up already—”

Steve can’t always take his word for it, when Tony says he’s ready. He checks: gets one, two, three fingers up Tony’s asshole fast and easy. But he is ready, very much so. Steve gets the base of his dick in his hand – times like these, he can’t help but feel quietly smug about the fact he’s almost too thick for his fingers to wrap around – and he pops the head into Tony’s ass, breaching the first ring of muscle, where his tongue has just been. He bites back a groan and Tony lets out a stream of blissful expletives. Steve pushes in further, sliding all the way home.

Tony’s ass clenches so hard around Steve it punches a gasp from him, and Tony comes.

Just like that, writhing and messing up the sheets. Steve grins, elated, as he pets Tony’s hair and down his spine while Tony thrusts mindlessly against the mattress. Tony never comes this fast. And something in Steve he hadn’t even known was still tense and self-conscious eases, at last. Tony loves this as much as Steve does. Loved everything Steve just did to him.

“Holy shit,” Tony mumbles.

“Want me to stop?” Steve asks, breathless.

“No no no,” Tony says. “Still feels so good. Keep going.”

Steve’s not going to object. He grinds his hips into Tony’s ass and starts to thrust, shallowly at first, and then harder; he gets a quick, sinuous rhythm going, pulling out almost all the way and then rolling his hips to push his dick back inside, as deep as he can go, his balls slapping against Tony’s ass. Tony murmurs encouragingly and rocks back against Steve.

Steve slows enough to get his fingers between their bodies and feel the place where Tony’s hole is stretched around his dick. He seems ridiculously, absurdly large against this delicate little entrance. The way his dick stuffs Tony full, the inside of Tony gripping him so tightly, the filthy intimacy of Tony clenching deliberately on him— it’s a rush. It makes Steve thrust harder, faster, angling himself in the way he knows Tony likes. He is aware of every inch of his dick rubbing itself against Tony’s inner walls, pleasuring him from the inside out.

The expression on Tony’s face – slack-jawed ecstasy, his body shivering in delicious agony – is what starts to send Steve over the edge. He tips forward, still buried in Tony, to bite his way up his neck. Tony arches obligingly. Steve pins him down with his torso – careful not to put too much weight on him – and frees a hand from the sheets to turn Tony’s face, gently, toward his. He takes Tony’s mouth in a kiss that’s more tongue than anything else. That’s how he comes, pressed against Tony’s body from collar to crotch, buried to the hilt, moaning into Tony’s welcoming mouth.

“Mm, Steve,” Tony says, voice wrecked. “God, I feel so wet. So stretched. That was so good, baby.”

His arm stretches back so he can push a hand into Steve’s hair, which must be damp with his sweat.

“I love you,” he tells Tony. His voice sounds as scratchy as Tony’s, but Tony grins blissfully over his shoulder at him.

“Love you, too,” he says.

“‘m not done yet, though,” says Steve. Tony raises an eyebrow at him, incredulous. Steve pulls out with a wet sound, shivering at the sudden cool air against his softening dick, and shuffles backward on his knees to look at the state of Tony’s hole. It’s reddened, loose, and starting to leak Steve’s come. A feast. Steve kisses it, gently, knowing it must be sensitive by now.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Tony says.

“Okay?” says Steve, and licks away a bead of come.

“Jesus— if you— yes, if you want—”

Steve puffs out a warm breath onto Tony’s hole, which twitches and leaks a bit more. He sucks up every drop with his tongue and lips, mouthing tenderly at the well-used muscle. He can’t help but keep licking there after Tony is clean, savoring his warmth and his taste.

Tony’s hard again; Steve doesn’t know whether it was the fucking that did it or Steve’s clean-up efforts, but he’s not complaining. He guides Tony up onto his knees – shoulders still down on the bed, hands clutching the pillow for dear life – and jacks him off with both hands. Steve’s jaw is getting a bit sore, too sore for him to swallow Tony’s dick, and besides, Tony likes Steve’s hands. Steve’s hands are so big that together they engulf Tony’s dick almost entirely. Tony thrusts shallowly into the warm, damp tunnel of Steve’s grip, and Steve nibbles happily up and down his crack, and it’s not very long at all before Tony comes for the second time onto the ruined sheets.

Finally, finally, Steve decides to let Tony rest.

He drags the two of them out of the wet spot and helps Tony flop onto his back. Tony stares at the ceiing, wide-eyed, looking faintly shocked.

“I should’ve known you’d get off on ass-kissing,” Steve says, grinning down at him.

“If I could move right now,” Tony says, “I would throw this pillow at you.”

Steve plants a kiss on his chest, and then another one on his lips.

“Thanks for letting me do that, Tony,” he says, stroking a finger over the stubble on his jaw.

“You’re thanking me?” Tony repeats, his eyes slanting incredulously toward Steve. “Did you miss the part where I got two orgasms and the best fuck of my life out of the deal?”

_Best of his life_ , Steve thinks, smugly.

“I did not miss that, no,” says Steve.

He can’t put into words, really, this feeling of gratitude that goes well beyond what they just did and has more to do with everything about being with Tony. He gets to have sex with Tony, yeah. He also gets a home and a future and a steady, unshakable love. He gets the sound of Tony’s heartbeat against his cheek when he rests his head on Tony’s chest, and Tony’s relieved smile when he comes home to Steve at the end of a long day, and a space in Tony’s endlessly hectic life.

He doesn’t have the right words to say that, though. It would come out clumsy and wrong. But he hopes Tony knows. He thinks, from the fond, understanding smile Tony treats him to, that Tony probably does.

“Come on,” Steve says, sitting up.

“What?”

“You need another shower. We both do,” says Steve.

“Nooo,” Tony whines.

Steve strokes his hair. “We can make it a bath. I’ll carry you there. You won’t have to do any work at all.”

Tony looks at him thoughtfully, his eyes straying to Steve’s arms. He won’t admit he likes being carried, but oh, he loves it. Steve will never call him on it, but he’s not above using it against him.

“Well,” Tony says. “If you insist.”

He falls asleep in Steve’s arms as they soak in the tub. Steve carries him back to bed, too, and covers him with the sheets. Tony never stirs – he’s knocked out.

Steve slips into bed alongside Tony. He falls asleep easily, and his dreams are peaceful.


End file.
